


Iowa nights

by Dhae



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Slash, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Star Trek: Generations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhae/pseuds/Dhae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk has retired and moved to Iowa with Antonia. Spock comes to visit with a proposal and receives an epiphany. Kirk's epiphany takes a bit longer to arrive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. End of an era

**Author's Note:**

> I'm leaning on the Star Trek Encyclopedia, where they point out that Kirk retired for two years just prior to TWOK. I'm using their timeline as well. I'm also using the Saavik from TSFS and TVH, mainly because I think she had interesting chemistry with Spock.
> 
> Originally posted as part of Side by Side #14.

The nights in Iowa were always quiet. Even after two years, Jim still thought so. After a lifetime of sleeping in the ever-bustling quarters of the academy, the efficient sounds of gamma-shift aboard a starship, or the never-sleeping Starfleet Headquarters, the nights here were sometimes so quiet he couldn't sleep. Even with Antonia's regular breathing beside him, he couldn't relax.

On nights like these, in the cool nights of early autumn, when the weather was still good, he'd go outside and sit down on the bench he'd carved out of an old hickory-tree and look up at the stars.

He'd identify some of the star-systems he'd visited, and always the low-hanging star of Space-dock, where the Enterprise was put out to pasture as a training-ship for inept cadets from the Academy. The only thing which had made that bearable was the knowledge that only Spock ever captained her. Spock would take good care of her.

Spock, who had accepted the promotion to captain as unflappably as he did everything else. Then he promptly denied any assignment - politely, of course - other than the one which would allow him to stay aboard the Enterprise, however rarely.

If Jim hadn't known the Vulcan better, he might have thought it was out of sentimentality. But then again, he did know Spock well enough to think that it might be.

Whatever the reason, the Vulcan had turned down some attractive posts. Starfleet Command had offered him his own starship, a position as senior supervisor of the science division, and an executive position in Tactical. But none of those offers had contained a place with the Enterprise.

They had maintained a friendship through the years, even during that time Spock returned to Vulcan, ostensibly to complete his training at Gol. But both Jim and Bones could count to seven, and they had both been relieved when Spock had returned un-bonded. After that, neither had asked any questions, and Spock, in true Spock-fashion, hadn't volunteered any information.

It had grown harder and harder for the famous James T. Kirk to sit back at his office and watch Spock training cadets, watch Bones scamper all over Federation space, organizing emergency help wherever it was needed. And the rest of them - Scotty, puttering around the Enterprise engine-room as he always had, teaching the cadets some of his miracle tricks, Sulu with his family, test-flying new Federation classes on occasion, Chekov shipping out with the *Reliant', and Uhura settle down as the belle of the ball in Central Communications.

Oh, it had been hard. It had become unbearable when the seven years had rolled past again and Spock sought and was granted an extended leave of absence for *personal reasons'. Bones had shipped out to a medical emergency on Sharihva, so Jim had decided, quite on impulse, to take a vacation and visit his uncle in Idaho. That was where he'd met Antonia.

Within six months they'd moved into his cabin in Iowa and he'd retired from Starfleet. Spock hadn't returned from Vulcan, Sarek and Amanda were away on a very important diplomatic mission, and Bones had been tied up in the ever-escalating disaster on Sharihva. And Admiral James Tiberius Kirk, the youngest admiral in Starfleet history, had retired.

He looked back up at the stars. On nights like these, he still wondered why, and doubted his own decision. Eventually, Bones had returned, and so had Spock, yet again un-bonded. But Antonia was a wonderful woman, a one-in-a-million catch. And what more could he hope to achieve in Starfleet, anyway?

Captain at 33, Admiral at 37, what more was there? He'd been an admiral, flying a desk for longer than he ever flew a starship, even counting the second five-year mission, bought with the V'ger success.

No, Starfleet held no more challenges for him. They had made it quite clear to him that he'd never again captain a star-ship, but then again, after the Enterprise, what ship could they offer him?

And he knew that his closest friends, Bones and Spock wouldn't abandon him. So why did he still feel lonely? Antonia was a wonderful woman, and he loved her, loved living in his cabin. But none of his friends from the old Enterprise had been to visit Iowa. In the past two years, he'd only seen Spock and Bones when he made a point to visit Starfleet Headquarters, and although they'd readily spent time with him, he'd still felt that it was time they made in a busy calendar.

Maybe that was what truly bothered him. That his friends still had careers, while he was slowly winding down, becoming old and useless at 50.

Depressed, he turned from the stars and returned to the small sounds of the bedroom. At least Antonia still cared about him.


	2. A surprise visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim gets a visit. And his visitor has a problem that needs solving.

<Tchack!>

He was chopping wood in the brisk morning-air while Antonia was cooking breakfast. It was always best to get the wood out of the way before the sun rose too high. He was getting too old to work in the noon-heat.

<Tchack!>

Another log fell, neatly split down the middle. Old! Now there was a term he'd never thought about describing himself with. When he'd thought about it, he'd always thought he'd die young, on some adventure. But he'd quit Starfleet. There would be no more adventures.

<Tchack!>

And he was happy with Antonia. Loved her, even. Obviously it was a quieter life, a life less useful. But what was he to do? Too old to begin a new career, too old for a second chance at command. Too old...

<Tchack!>

He stopped, holding his breath. Was that the tell-tale tinkle of a transporter? No, it couldn't be. The entire Coteau des Praries was transporter-free zone. Whoever wanted to travel had to do so by old-fashioned groundcar or by shuttle.

He raised the axe for another blow.

"Admiral..."

Only one person in the universe had that absolutely cultured baritone. The shock almost made him drop the axe, but he managed to hold onto it as he spun to face his alien friend.

"Spock..."

It was a whisper of sound, yet it conveyed all the things he felt for his old friend. More, even, than he was completely comfortable with. With his usual quick wit he turned the conversation into the familiar, comforting banter.

"I'm retired, Spock. I don't think 'admiral' is quite appropriate."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "My apologies. Jim."

Oh. That too was a word filled with meaning. He forcibly turned his mind from that to thoughts on why Spock was there. Ah... "Transporter?"

Spock nodded curtly. "The cause seemed... sufficient."

So... it wasn't a social call, then. Jim took in Spock's attire. He looked beyond good in the new red-and-black uniforms. And captain's white softened the clash between red jacket and olive skin. He stood in his customary at-ease, hands clasped behind his back, feet lightly spread, waiting patiently for... for what, exactly? Jim was no longer his superior.

"Cause, Spock?"

Spock glanced at the cabin, a very human trick he'd learned.

"May we speak somewhere... privately, Jim?"

Jim grinned. "We'll go for a walk. I'll just grab my coat and tell Antonia I'm going."

***

When he returned, bringing Butler along as a convenient excuse, he found Spock standing on the ledge he'd affectionately named *Lookout Point'. It had the most spectacular view over the valley beyond, mottled with open grass and patches of trees.

Surprising himself, he found he'd have liked to have watched Spock looking at the scenery for a while longer, but the Vulcan's super-human hearing worked against him.

Spock turned, and Jim watched the subtle widening of his eyes in surprise at the sight of the dog. Jim smiled. "Spock, meet Butler, Butler, meet Spock."

The inevitable eye-brow rose. "A dog?"

Jim couldn't resist the chance to tease. "Obviously, Mister Spock. A Great Dane to be accurate."

Spock glared at him, again a shift so subtle it would have been lost on anyone who knew him less well. For the first time in years, Jim Kirk felt life was so wonderful he couldn't help but laugh with the joy of it. God, he had missed Spock!

Eventually, he got himself under control again, and smiled at Spock. "Right then, introductions're done. Let's walk."

He lead them down a well-trodden path, the one which would lead them around the pond. Spock fell into step beside him as he used to.

"All right, Spock. What brings you to my neck of the woods?" Jim could almost see Spock digest the term, but he didn't comment on it, choosing instead to stay on the subject.

"Admiral Rhayan is retiring."

Jim frowned. What did that have to do with anything?

"Rhayan - academy, right?" Spock nodded, but it still didn't make any sense. "Well, he is what? 100 years old?"

"102," Spock corrected, accurate as always.

They walked for a few minutes in silence until it was obvious Spock had no intentions of elaborating without further questions.

"And this would be the reason for your visit...?"

Spock was silent for an instant, then he nodded a single time. "Yes."

They turned onto the path around the pond, a little moist underfoot, before Spock said anything further. "There have been... questions asked. The general consensus among the High Command is that they would prefer you as Head of the Academy."

Jim took a moment to digest that rather startling lump of information. "Questions? And just because a few admirals might..."

"Five" Spock interrupted him quietly, "out of seven. And the last two undecided."

Five admirals in the High Command? Jim couldn't help but feel a little flattered. He had to remind himself that he had no intention of returning to Starfleet, in order to maintain a cool tone of voice.

"Impressive, Spock. Might I ask how you got those figures?"

"As I stated previously, questions were asked. Discreetly, of course."

"Of course," Jim agreed. But there was still one question unanswered, although he could guess. "And who, might I ask, were asking these questions?"

"Myself, my father, Dr. McCoy, misters Chekov, Sulu, Scott and Uhura. And quite a few other crewmembers of the Enterprise."

Spock passed the stalled Jim by three paces before discovering the human had stopped.

"Why?"

"I would imagine they share the worry of Dr. McCoy and myself. Retirement doesn't appear to suit you, Admiral."

Unexpectedly, Jim's temper flared. "Dammit, Spock, I'm retired!"

And just as suddenly it burned itself out and left him with the familiar feeling of being old. "Look at me, Spock. Academy? Me, trapped with a load of unruly children?"

Spock raised both eyebrows and commented with his characteristic dryness. "Not entirely unlike a starship with a human crew."

Jim looked at him incredulously. Then he burst out laughing, laughing so hard in fact, that he doubled up in the middle of the path.

Spock waited patiently until he had himself under control again.

"Oh God, Spock. Don't you see how ridiculous that whole idea is?"

The Vulcan remained unfazed. "On the contrary. It would be a logical step. And Dr. McCoy assures me that he finds it most... appropriate."

Kirk looked at him sharply, but as usual, there was no sign of untruth on Spock's face. "Appropriate? We both know that I don't belong behind a desk. I belong on the bridge of a ship."

Spock didn't even look at him. "Your experience would be valuable at the Academy. Humans have a most illogical tendency to work harder when they seek the approval of one they admire."

Kirk cast a side-ways glance at his old friend. "Are you saying that 'cause I'm a hero to the cadets they'll make better graduates?"

"Humans have, illogical though they are, their own breed of logic. Yes, Admiral, I do believe your presence would make a difference."

Jim stroked Butler's head as the tall dog paced him for a little while, effectively separating him from Spock.

"I'm just not... I don't think I can come back, Spock. What is there for me, now? I'm an admiral - have been for longer than I flew a starship. I'm at the top of the pile in Starfleet; not much challenge there. Maybe I could start another career in something different. But I think I'm too old for that."

Where did that come from? He certainly hadn't intended to reveal quite so much to his too perceptive friend. But he should have known that Spock would have a quirky answer.

"The human life-span has been extended to an average age of 120 years. It is not unusual to see humans age to 130 or older. You are not yet at the middle of life."

"No?" Jim's voice was little more than a whisper. "Then how come I feel old?"

He would have expected Spock to say something about how illogical that feeling was, but Spock still surprised him sometimes.

"I do not know, Admiral. But you have repeatedly informed me that you miss the activity of Starfleet."

"I never said..."

Spock glanced at him, eyebrow raised. "I am capable of reading between the lines, Jim."

Jim couldn't help but smile at his occasionally surprising friend. "You just don't want anyone to know."

Spock remained quiet and they were well on their way back around the pond before Jim gave it up and tried a different tack.

"Why are you so eager to have me at the academy, Spock?"

"I do not believe *eager' applies, Admiral."

"Oh, would you stop calling me that! Call me Jim, James, anything but that damn rank!"

He barely heard Spock, whispering the name, testing it - tasting it. "James..."

If Jim had been a revelation, James was the all-out 3-D, smell-o-matic, touch-proof version. Jim's breath caught. No one had ever said his name quite like that before.

But Spock continued before Jim had the chance to take that thought to its logical conclusion. "Jim, the academy needs you. It needs a revolution, the perceptions of someone who has flown in Space - had his own command."

Jim looked at him incredulously. "You really mean that, don't you? But what's in it for you?"

Spock answered without hesitation. "If you do not return to Starfleet, there is a 93.25 percent probability that the academy will be given to admiral Takasi."

Takasi? Well, now it finally began to make sense. Takasi was a well-known xenophobe. "You don't think he'll remove you? He can't!"

"I do believe, should he find himself in that position, he would with a probability exceeding 79 percent remove the non-humans currently serving at the academy and raise the entry-demands for cadets so they cannot be met by non-humans."

"But that's illogical, Spock!"

"Indeed it is. It would be a loss to the academy, and to the philosophy of IDIC embraced by Starfleet."

Oh yes, suddenly all of Spock's reasons lay before him, and they were all pristinely logical. For some reason, Jim felt... cheated. "I see."

He needed time to think, to make a decision. This was not a life-or-death decision to be made in a split-second on the bridge of a starship. It deserved time - and thought.

He looked side-ways at Spock, standing serenely at attention beside him, knowing that although he'd retired from Starfleet, he could dismiss his friend now, as if he still commanded him. Spock would leave and accept Jim's decision no mater what. But the truth was...

"Spock, won't you stay? I'd like you to meet Antonia."

Spock stiffened almost imperceptibly and Jim winced. Oh, damn, he knew Spock didn't like to hear about his girlfriend.

"I am sorry, Admiral. I have an inspection aboard the Enterprise."

"I see." Even Jim thought his voice sounded churlish, and the sharp glance Spock sent him revealed that it hadn't gone undetected by the Vulcan, either. He couldn't let it go sour like that, he just couldn't.

"I'm sorry, Spock. You have your duty."

Spock accepted the apology graciously, without a word. "Perhaps I could return... later?"

Jim lit up. "Tonight?"

On a human it would barely have been a facial expression. On Spock it was a smile, Jim decided.  "Tonight."

He would have reached out and touched Spock, but years without the close relationship of captain and first officer had made that unthinkable. So he simply smiled at Spock as he took two steps back. "I'll see you tonight, then."

"Certainly, Admiral." Spock took out the communicator and flicked it open. "Mr. Scott - one to beam up."

"Aye, sir!" 

And then he was gone in a shower of blue light and Jim was alone in the cool morning-air, feeling better than he had in years.


	3. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Antonia meet, and Jim makes a decision.

The sun was closing on the horizon when Spock arrived For some inexplicable reason he'd chosen the co-ordinates of Lookout Point, which was a few meters lower than the cabin.

Jim was sitting on the hickory bench, waiting, and he watched Spock hike up from Lookout Point. For some reason, his mouth went dry.

Spock was wearing a short black tunic with flared sleeves, embroidered with Vulcan signs and symbols in silver around the edges and down the centre. A silver chain with large, oblong rings doubled as a belt and underneath he wore a pair of relatively tight black pants. Black boots polished to a shine finished off the look.

Oh yes. Black was definitely a good color on Spock. Jim shook himself out of his reverie and stood, calling out. "Spock! Over here!"

The Vulcan crossed the open ground in front of the cabin, moving gracefully as a cat. Jim suddenly felt underdressed and wished he'd listened to Antonia's idea of changing the faded blue jeans, but at least she'd battered him into replacing the old chequered shirt with a golden cashmere sweater.

"Jim." Spock hesitated for a beat when he got within touching distance, then did something completely unprecedented. Instead of holding up his hand in the customary salute, he held it out for a human handshake.

Jim looked at it for a while, knowing that with their previous mind-melds, the skin-to-skin contact of a handshake would enable Spock to read his mind. He wasn't sure he wanted Spock to know what was going on inside his head - hell, he wasn't even sure he wanted to know all of it, himself.

But the moment Spock began retracting his hand, head slightly bowed, eyes quietly resigned, Jim made up his mind. Like a man leaping off a bridge, he grasped Spock's hand and shook it determinedly.

And then he watched in fascination as the world seemed to slow almost to a stop. Spock's eyes widened almost imperceptibly,  then snapped up to lock with Jim's. For a heartbeat he searched the human's eyes for... something. Something he obviously didn't find, because his eyebrows almost met in a frown. He looked down at their joined hands as if wondering what had possessed him to invite such a touch. Still in slow motion he let go and retracted his hand,  allowing something which could have been an accidental touch. Jim knew better, knew enough about Vulcan intimacies to recognize it. Spock's middle and index fingers glided along his own in something which held a disturbing resemblance to the Vulcan 'hand-kiss'.

Then the world sped up again, and Spock took a step back. "It was... most kind of you to invite me."

For some reason Jim didn't want to examine himself, he felt bitter. "Come, come, Mr. Spock. You've always had an invitation."

It was only a flicker of reaction, but Jim could have sworn he saw Spock flinch. Without conscious thought he extended the olive-branch, even if somewhat gruffly. "Come on in, Spock."

***

Antonia was dressed to the nines. Jim had found it strange at the time, but now that he saw her with Spock he began to understand why. Maybe it was female intuition - maybe just a lucky guess, but she'd dressed to avoid being outdone by a Vulcan.

Jim looked at her short red dress, her red lips and the red hair she'd piled on top of her head in an elaborate style. Then he looked at the Vulcan beside her, strict and severe in black and silver and decided that Antonia never stood a chance. Not that he'd ever tell her that, of course.

"Ah, Mr. Spock. I've heard so much about you."

Jim winced when Antonia started gushing and added insult to injury when she held out a hand. Spock simply looked at it. She should know better - but then again, her contact with aliens had been limited. Spock raised an eyebrow almost invisibly and glanced at him.

"Spock, this is Antonia Robertson, an Earth-specific biologist. Antonia, this is Captain Spock cha'Sarek."

He'd hoped that'd defuse the situation, but judging by Antonias sour look it hadn't. Damn!

"It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Robertson." Spock was polite, and only Jim heard the subtle undertone of ice. This was going to be a very long night.

***

It was almost a relief to leave the cabin. The tension between Antonia and Spock had been palpable all night, so despite how happy Jim was that one of his old friends had finally come to visit, he was almost glad when Spock stood and excused himself, thanking Antonia for a pleasant evening. Well, that should be final proof that Vulcans could indeed lie.

He offered to walk Spock out, and despite Antonia's glare and Spock's protestations that it was illogical and unnecessary, he did nevertheless.

It was a beautiful night; the moon almost full and a cloudless sky of stars shining down. Spock was walking beside him silently, his clothes flowing about him as if they were shaped out of night and starlight. Jim felt right at home, walking beside his old friend.

They reached Lookout Point far too soon for Jim's liking and stopped, facing each other in silence. Jim fidgeted. Something needed to be said.

"I'm sorry about Antonia and..."

Spock raised a hand to stop him. "No apology is needed, Admiral."

Oh, so it was back to that, then. It felt bad. "You know, for a highly intelligent Vulcan, I wonder why you can't quite seem to shake a rank I no longer have."

Spocks face tightened slightly. "My apologies Jim. I take it you have made your decision, then?"

Jim looked at him and thought it through. How wonderful his day had been, simply because Spock had been there. How Spock had remained civil all evening, despite the fact that Antonia obviously didn't like him and made little effort to hide it. How he'd miss the quiet life with Antonia. How he would hate himself if Spock lost his position in Starfleet because Takasi happened to be xenophobic.

Suddenly a new revelation opened itself. Antonia had acted towards Spock as she did towards pretty women who showed an interest in Jim - or whom he showed an interest in. She had treated Spock like a rival? But that didn't make sense!

Spock took another step back, head bowed and began fishing for the communicator. He obviously thought the decision was made.

In that moment, where it was blindingly clear that he could chose Antonia or Spock, his decision was made. He loved Antonia and he'd try to persuade her to come along, but Spock... Spock was like the other half of his soul.

"Spock, wait!"

Black eyes looked at him, and Jim took a step closer. "Yes, I've made my decision. It'll take a few days to break the news to Antonia, but..."

A light kindled in Spock's eyes. "You are...?"

"Yes. I am. And you can tell the High Command that I want the Academy." Jim had to glance at Spock's lips, sure that they'd be smiling, but not a muscle was twitching. But then again, his eyes smiled plenty. "So... do you think Bones'll approve?"

Even Spock's voice was under control, and Jim marveled at it. "I do believe Dr. McCoy will approve." Spock took out the communicator. "And, Jim? So do I."

He nodded once, then flipped the communicator open. This time there was a measure of joy in his voice. "Mr. Scott? One to beam up."

"Aye, Sir!"

Was it just Jim's overactive imagination, or did Scotty sound a lot happier about that order than he had that morning?

A shimmer of blue light illuminated the night for a moment, and Spock was gone.

Jim stood and looked up at the stars for a moment, then sought out Space-dock. As he turned to go back to the cabin, back to Antonia, he made a silent promise.

"Soon, my lady. Soon."


	4. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim keeps his promises and pays the price.

He couldn't possibly sleep. The week had passed in a blur of activity, hopping from here to there, moving crates and boxes of stuff from the cabin to San Francisco. 

Bones had been called off-planet again and Spock...  
  


_"What is the story about that Vulcan, anyway? He was just rude!"_

_"Antonia, Spock is Vulcan, they have different customs..."_

_"Well, that doesn't mean he couldn't at least have shook hands."_   
  


Spock was busy at the Academy. Jim had, briefly, met his protégé, a young Vulcan woman called Saavik. There was... something between them, something which gave him an uneasy feeling in his gut when he thought about the next time Spock would need 'personal leave'.

It was selfish of him to want Spock unbonded. Petty, and probably even dangerous. Hell, he'd been at Vulcan that first time with T'Pring. Spock had come far too close to dying that time.

But he'd survived the last two times, hadn't he? So, really, there was no need for him to be bonded.

And it had nothing to do with the pain Jim felt, thinking about the closeness between Sarek and Amanda. To picture Spock and Saavik... No, nothing there at all! 

It was nice to be back at Starfleet HQ. It was still the place where he felt at home. The seat of power. He couldn't deny he belonged to Starfleet.

_  
"You're what?"_

_"I'm going back to Starfleet."_

_"That Spock set you up to this, didn't he? Didn't he?!"_

  
Antonia hadn't been happy about it. She'd thrown the eggs at him, then the toast, then the pillows from the bed and the small vase of flowers from the tray. The vase had taken out one of the bedroom windows. He hadn't bothered replacing it.

_  
"Antonia, I'd like you to come with me..."_

_"Jim, I love you. But you should have asked me. I don't want to be with a Starfleet officer. I'd hardly ever see you!"_

_"I'm sorry, Antonia. But I had to make a decision, and I made it."_

_"See? Starfleet officer to the last, right Jim?"_

  
Well, at least the old crew had been happy to see him. They'd thrown him a party in the apartment he was surprised to discover Spock had procured for him in alliance with Bones.

"You may, of course, teleport to and from your cabin if you wish, Admiral."

"No... no, it's lovely, Spock. I was thinking about putting the cabin up for sale, actually."

"Ya think that's a good idea, Jim? You've had that old pile of wood for as long as I've known you, even if you didn't much use it."

"What's the point, Bones? It seems like I can't keep dodging a desk here." And he hadn't been unhappy about that.

_  
"You always cared more about that ship and your beloved 'Spock' than you did about me."_

_"That's not true, Antonia."_

_"Oh, yeah? Then how come I've heard more about your Vulcan than anyone else? Ha! You should see yourself when you're talking about him."_

  
Maybe she was right. Maybe he did care more than he should for Spock and the Enterprise. But he couldn't just stand by and let Spock lose his position.

For all the Vulcan's qualities, Jim knew that the scars of being born a half-breed ran deep. All his life, people had looked at Spock and seen someone different. The Vulcans had seen a human, the humans a Vulcan. His mother had seen a Vulcan, his father a human. He had never been accepted for what he was, for who he was. Even Starfleet Academy, Jim knew, had been more of a trial than Spock would ever willingly admit.

And if he was completely honest with himself, he'd missed Starfleet. He liked the clear hierarchy of a command structure. And he knew that he was good at what he did.

_  
"I'm sorry, Jim. You go and be what you want to be."_

_"Antonia..."_

_"Shh... It doesn't matter. Just promise me you'll be honest with yourself before it's too late."_

  
Honest? He was being honest with himself!

Still, the hustle and bustle of Starfleet HQ had been overwhelming after a few years in the quiet hills. But he'd get used to it again. And he'd have Spock and Bones to keep him company. Even without Antonia, life felt good. Men like him weren't cut out for families, anyway.

He leaned back on the hickory-bench and looked at the bright star of Space-dock. He was stuck behind a desk, again. But it was worth it! What business did men his age have, gallivanting around space, anyway? No, far better leave that to the young. To people like Saavik.

Jim smiled wryly. No, he wasn't going to command the Enterprise again, but at least now he'd get to go aboard her from time to time - to see Spock in the captains' chair. To stand back and watch the young cadets on command track - like Saavik - take command.

Jim sighed. Suddenly he felt old again. But he'd made his promise to Spock, and he intended to keep it if it killed him!


	5. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After The Voyage Home, Jim and the crew has a little party at the cabin. But the night will reveal a few surprises as Jim opens up to Spock in an attempt to help him regain his human half.

_It was the best of times, it was the worst of times._

Spock couldn't possibly have known how prophetic those words were.

The best of times, because he was back in Starfleet, back with Spock and Bones.

The worst of times, because...

Carol, calling for help, reminding him of things he hadn't thought of in years.

Spock, giving him back the Enterprise, and that had felt like so much more than just friendship.

Khan, worming his way back into his life again. Hateful. Vindictive.

David - the son he'd never known - never even seen before.

The final battle with Khan, made possible because Spock always pulled an ace out of his sleeve.

Spock, walking into the wall. Blinded, again, because of him. But so much worse this time, because Scotty had been right and he was dying.

Bones, in Spock's cabin, sounding like Spock, talking like Spock, losing his mind - and it had terrified him.

Sarek and the mind-meld where he'd finally, fully understood.

Saavik, telling him about Spock. And seconds later, telling him that David was dead.

Watching the Enterprise glide to her fiery death by his hand and still hope that he wasn't too late, hope that he could still save Spock.

Holding Spock again, desperately, yelling a Klingon command into a communicator, praying it would work, because the earth under their feet was burning and the planet collapsing.

Waiting... waiting to know if Spock would be Spock again.

Spock, remembering his name first of all on Mount Seleya in the cool morning-light.

Three long months of slow dread that Spock would never come back after all - that he'd never be quite who he was again.

The insane flight back through time, back to old Earth to retrieve the whales - and the equally mad return.

Spock in the water with him, freezing and spluttering, but still laughing.

Spock beside him during the trial, during the degradation and the new Enterprise.

The new Enterprise was the reason they were all partying in his cabin in Iowa. And Spock... Spock was the reason he was sitting outside, looking in at Bones and Scotty, trying to sing the same song to two different tunes.

"Captain?"

Think of the Vulcan and he appears.

"It's okay, Spock. I'm just... I'll be right in."

He half-expected Spock to turn around and go back to the party, but instead, the footsteps came closer.

The Vulcan stood so long beside the bench that Jim's curiosity eventually overcame his patience. He glanced up to see Spock, dressed with Uhura's impeccable taste in a pair of black jeans and a black shirt, standing in his customary 'at ease'. Jim rolled his eyes, exasperation slipping through his voice. "We're off duty, Spock. Sit down!"

Spock sat, although stiffly, on the bench next to Jim. After a little while of silence, Spock turned to him. "May I ask you a... personal question, Captain?"

Jim smiled and tried to lighten the mood. "Well, if it's too personal, maybe you should leave the 'Captain' and stick with 'Jim'."

The smile faded to a sigh as he watched Spock turn that phrasing over and over in his head. Sometimes it was just too easy to forget that this Spock wasn't the one he'd lost. "Ask, Spock. It's okay."

Spock remained quiet for a long, long moment, and when he did speak, he did so hesitantly. "What was our... relationship... before, Captain?"

Jim managed to avoid swallowing his tongue, but he failed miserably at not blushing. "Spock... that's..." He trailed off, not sure where he wanted that sentence to end, anyway.

Spock seemed to read his emotions as effortlessly as always and stood. "I apologize, Captain. That was an inappropriate question."

Jim, his blushing under some control, waved a hand. A few breaths had made him think that maybe they needed to get it out into the open. At any rate, Spock deserved an answer. "No, no. You surprised me that's all. Sit down, Spock."

He waited until his friend was seated again. "I don't really know how to answer that, Spock. Maybe if I knew... Why do you ask?"

Spock didn't look at him, his eyes gazing into the night. "My memories are... incomplete. The cause may be the time my katra was housed in Dr. McCoy. Or it could be because of the arcane nature of the Fal-Tor-Pan. I do not know."

He steepled his hands in his lap and turned his eyes towards them instead as he continued quietly. "My mother believed that the retraining was too... Vulcan. That the emotions I must have as half human were being ignored."

Spock glanced fleetingly at Jim. "The retraining is a way of reminding the mind of the things it has forgotten. I believe my mother wished for me to retrieve my emotions in a similar fashion."

Jim frowned, not at all sure he understood. "So... this is a way of reminding you of emotions?"

For the first time, Spock looked at him squarely. "Yes. Our time on the Bounty already proved that I have emotional reactions to you."

Jim stood and started pacing. Five steps one way - five steps the other. "I want to help, Spock. I just... I don't know what to tell you. We were friends - good friends - but..."

Spock followed his captain with his eyes. "This I have already remembered. Yet... I sense there is more..."

"I don't know, Spock. I... you were my best friend, and..." Should he tell him? Well, Spock was looking for information - and this had been important, for Jim at least. "Well, you were the reason I returned after my retirement."

Spock's eyebrows rose. "Explain, please."

"I... damn it! I don't know how, Spock. I don't even know how to explain it to myself." He paced faster, even more frustrated than before, but Spock's quiet voice froze him instantly.

"Jim. May I share your memories?"

He was wary of the mind-melds, always had been. There was just something about having a stranger mucking around in your brain... But this was Spock! Jim looked at him. No, it wasn't. Not really. Still, he trusted Spock above all others. He walked closer and knelt down in front of Spock, still sitting on the hickory bench. He tilted his head up towards his friend in absolute trust. "Yes, Spock."

Spock nodded silently and leaned forward, his fingers finding Jim's meld-points effortlessly. Jim lowered his shields and was instantly aware of Spock. His mindscape had retained its shape, although it was more severe, more barren than Jim remembered. This was a taste of what Spock would have been had he been wholly Vulcan.

Spock's mind-touch was focused but gentle. The emotions he touched, though, were anything but. In reverse order memories flowed through Jim for Spock to see and feel.

The joy, bubbling, uncontainable joy after they had saved Earth yet again, but not for the whales and not for Earth. For Spock, alive and laughing.

The pain which accompanied the sudden realization that this Spock wasn't entirely the Spock he'd known.

The tension relaxing as Spock remembered his name on the steps of Mount Seleya.

The agonizing moment after Saavik's unfeeling report from the Genesis planet. The grief that David was dead, but at the same time the almost overwhelming relief that Spock - miraculously reborn Spock - was still alive. But he couldn't feel like that, not when David was dead!

The agony of Sarek's mind-meld. The moment of absolute grief when he realized that he would never again see the beauty of Spock's mind, would never again hear his voice.

A moment in time, when one of the young crewmembers was telling another a bawdy story about a nun and a Vulcan in the mess, when suddenly everyone had fallen quiet and looked at him. He'd had to leave, to cry alone.

The funeral, where he had to use every ounce of strength to keep control, to keep the mask of the captain in place.

The pain of watching Spock die, alone behind that glass. Of seeing him, half-blinded by the radiation, and being unable to touch him, to comfort him, to...

The quiet contentment that Spock had not only remembered his birthday, but had also brought such a thoughtful gift.

The unbearable jealousy of watching Spock with Saavik, who so obviously was in love with him. The fierce urge to knock her through a bulk-head, to tell her: 'The only bond will be with me!' The terror of knowing that Saavik was much better suited, stood a much better chance, being Vulcan, being a woman... And the bodily ache of desire to feel someone alien, pressed against him, skin to skin...

The mind-meld ended abruptly enough to give Jim a headache, but he forgot all about that when he saw Spock, sitting stiffly and ashen-faced on the bench, staring unseeingly ahead.

Well, no wonder Spock was shocked, Jim thought as he scrambled off the ground to be beside his friend. He had no idea he'd had such thoughts. But the mind-meld had brought them into his consciousness and he'd need to deal with it later.

"Spock? Spock, are you all right?"

He hesitated to reach out and touch him, fearing what else Spock might be able to read from him at that moment. Then he realized that he'd probably gotten most of it already. His heart in his throat, he reached out and shook Spock lightly by his upper arm. "Spock? C'mon, Spock. Snap out of it!"

He did, with a jerk and a suddenly indrawn breath, his head whipping around to lock eyes with Jim.

"Spock, are you okay? God, I'm sorry about that. I didn't even know that something like that was there. I mean, of course I knew that you're..."

Spock's hand on his arm stopped his rambling and he met the calm dark eyes again. "Jim. May I continue?"

Continue? The mind-meld? After that revelation? Jim wasn't entirely sure he could deal with whatever else Spock might trigger in his subconscious. But Spock was looking so expectant and knowing his Vulcan friend, tonight might be the only chance he'd ever get. "Yes, Spock."

Spock's fingers reached for the meld-points again, and the link was reopened effortlessly.

With Spock's questing mind as guide, they raced back through their history together. At every brief stop, Jim relived the emotions connected to exactly that moment in time. Then, as if drawn by an invisible string, Spock began traveling forward in time again. Jim had a glimpse of their destination a fraction of a second before they arrived, and a split instinct warned him off, wanted to relive it.

Spock never hesitated, and in memory they were back in this exact spot. Spock holding out his hand for a handshake, Jim accepting it. It was as if there was an emotional feedback from the powerful emotions in memory, and they were forced apart, but not until Jim had time to see a glimpse of the emotion Spock experienced there. Joy? Fear? He couldn't tell.

When he finally had his breathing under control again and opened his eyes, he found Spock sitting at the other end of the bench, studying his hands.

"Spock?"

The Vulcan stood, never meeting his eyes. "I must meditate on this."

He turned to walk away, but Jim stopped him, an instinct he'd learned to trust in space warning him that if he didn't do something, Spock would retreat back into his shell.

"Spock, I need to think about this as well, and I never thought I could feel that way about a man, but... I can't be sorry that you know. And I don't ever think I want to go back to not knowing."

Spock was waiting patiently, head still down. Jim smiled at him. "Go. Make up your mind. I'll be waiting."

Spock looked at him with gratitude. Then he nodded and turned back to the darkness. Two long strides and he was gone from view.


	6. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock has made a decision.

The house had finally fallen quiet, the party ending in the last few hours before sunrise. Jim had watched Bones and Scotty, both equally drunk, helping each other to their shuttle with the stumbling helpfulness of the hopelessly inebriated. Uhura had retired shortly after to her own shuttle, and Jim resolved yet again that he would have to talk to her and Scotty. And last, Sulu had, marginally more sober than Chekov, helped his Russian friend back to their shuttle. Which left Jim, once again, in a quiet house where he couldn't sleep.

He turned over again. Okay, he could admit it to himself. Most of the reason he couldn't sleep was the conversation and mind-meld with Spock.

He had meant what he'd said. Although it had never before crossed his mind to find a man physically desirable, he couldn't deny that his subconscious had obviously given it some thought and now... now he couldn't think of Spock as anyone he hadn't desired for years. It explained so many things.

Well, he couldn't deny that he loved Spock. Had loved him, long before this revelation. Loved him as a friend, as a brother, as you love the person without whom you cannot love yourself. Oh yes, he'd loved Spock. He'd just never imagined that it might be romantic love as well. 

He threw off the blanket. It was far too warm to sleep in a pair of pajamas, anyway. Grudgingly, he slipped out of bed and stripped to his boxers before returning. Yes, much better.

He wondered what Spock was doing. Whether he had returned from his meditation to share the shuttle with Uhura or if he was still kneeling on the hard ground of Lookout Point in meditation. That was the direction he'd been heading after their little mind-meld.

Those thoughts abruptly ended as the door to his bedroom creaked open, just enough to admit someone. Jim's hand reached automatically for the light switch, but a quiet baritone stopped him. "Please, Jim. No light."

Spock. And the Vulcan could see in the darkness like a cat.

A slanting beam of moonlight bisected the bedroom and with barely a sound, Spock stepped into it, allowing the human to see that he hadn't changed his clothes, a sure indication that he'd been meditating.

"Forgive me for intruding."

Jim smiled, trusting Spock to see it. "I meant it when I said I'd be here for you. Come. Sit." He patted the edge of the bed, and Spock approached cautiously. Once he'd sat down, on the very edge of the bed, Jim scooted closer while sitting up, making sure he also moved into the ray of moonlight.

Spock was studying his hands again, head bowed. "I believe my mother was justified in fearing that the retraining was too Vulcan. My meditation has reminded me of many things I had forgotten."

"Emotions?"

"Yes."

They fell silent for a while, Jim gazing at the beautiful face of his friend. Eventually, Spock Spoke again. "Through the mind-meld, allowing me to feel your emotions, I remembered my own. But it was the last one..."

He trailed off, but Jim picked it up immediately. "Those weren't just my emotions, were they? They were yours as well."

"Yes." Spock closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they found Jim's face, almost out of their own volition. "I remember that night, now. It was the night I first learned that you loved me."

"The handshake," Jim guessed, and Spock nodded.

"Yes. But it was apparent that you did not know."

"So you kept quiet."

"It was the logical conclusion."

"Logical? Spock, you died and you never... I never..." He laughed a little bitterly. "I can't blame you, can I? You knew how I felt and I didn't." He suddenly had to swallow tears.

"Jim..." Alien fingers touched his cheek and he leaned into the touch. "You did not know your emotions. I knew mine."

Jim didn't break the skin-to-skin contact and he knew Spock could feel his surprise at that. The Vulcan nodded. "Yes. Vulcans do not have a subconscious."

Jim sat up straighter, breaking the contact. "You mean you...?"

The hand returned to his face. "Yes." Those long, graceful fingers found his meld-points. "May I share your thoughts?"

Jims voice was a hoarse whisper. "Yes."

Spock's mindscape was much closer to the one Jim remembered. But there were other subtle changes. Where it had been hot, it was comfortably warm. Where it had been austere and forbidding, it was welcoming. Where it had been harsh, it was now gentle. And behind it all was a more complete backdrop than Jim had ever imagined. Love. All-encompassing, uncompromising, beautiful love.

The touch faded, but the memory remained. When he opened his eyes to look at Spock, he was surprised to see sadness in those dark eyes. "Spock?"

"If the mind-meld is maintained for too long, we could spontaneously bond at this time."

"Bond?" Well, that was one side-effect of loving a Vulcan he had conveniently forgotten. Suddenly the problems of loving - wanting - another man were dwarfed. He wasn't sure he wanted to bond. To have someone else inside your head, always?

Spock was giving him that almost-unchanged expression which was a smile. "I will not bond us. Not yet. Not without your consent."

Jim pulled back a little. "So... does that mean we can't be together?"

This time there was a definite twinkle in Spock's eyes. "Jim, I will always be your friend. But you have many doubts. You must consider this carefully."

"Yeah, it's gonna take me a while to get used to this." His gesture encompassed Spock, his desires, his love, everything.

"There is time," Spock said, and Jim knew he was talking about the next Pon Farr. Well, he could probably make up his mind over the next five or six years. In the meantime, though...

"So... you love me and I love you. I'm not really sure I'm prepared to make love to another man just yet, but..." It took a real effort to hold Spock's eyes. "Would you sleep with me tonight? Nothing else is going to happen, I just... I don't want to sleep alone."

He finished, deeply embarrassed about the way he sounded like a child, scared of the darkness, but he should have known Spock would understand. He looked a Jim for a long moment, then stood without a word to remove his shirt and jeans, leaving him in a black t-shirt and a pair of black boxers.

Jim scooted over in the double-bed and held up the blanket while Spock climbed in, a little awkwardly. Then they lay, side by side, stiffly on their backs and stared into the darkness.

As by unspoken agreement, they turned their heads to look at each other. Jim suddenly saw the absurdity in the whole setup and started laughing. Spock didn't, but his mouth definitely twitched.

When, at long last, Jim's laughter had receded into the occasional chuckle, he smiled at Spock. Then he abruptly decided to go out on a limb and turned onto his side, back to Spock.

He wasn't entirely sure Spock would take the hint, but then again, Spock had never failed to surprise him with the things he knew about human behavior.

Cautiously, Spock slid closer, until his front was pressed against Jim's back, all the way from shoulder to ankles. Then a strong arm wormed it's way under Jim's head pillowing it, while the other arm slid around his torso to end up wrapped tightly around him. Exhaling slowly, Jim relaxed.

"Is this acceptable?" a deep voice asked behind him.

"Mmhhm..." Jim purred in response and snuggled closer to the heat holding him. He would have never guessed how good it felt to be on the receiving end of an embrace he'd offered often enough to his female lovers.

"You know, I could get used to this," he murmured, but Spock apparently heard, responding simply by tightening his grip slightly.

With a sigh of contentment, Jim slipped into that twilight zone between sleep and awake, and he was never later quite sure if Spock actually said anything, or he simply imagined it.

"I shall hold you forever if you will allow it."

Jim never slept as well as he did in that quiet Iowa night.


End file.
